12 Days of Jaytim
by thebeautifullydisturbed
Summary: Participated in tufg's 12 Days of Jaytim event of 2013. Rated M for certain chapters.
1. Day 1: Snow

**12 Days of JayTim**

**Title: ****_Get It Right_****  
Day 1: ****_Snow _**_**  
**_**Pairing: **_JayTim  
_**Rating: ****_T_**

**Warnings: ****_Jason, Language, possible violence_**_**  
**_**Word Count:****_ 1190_**

_**Snippet:**_

"Do you think we'll ever get this right?" Tim asks quietly though his voice sounds loud as it cuts through the silence that hangs above them.

_Read More_

"Do you think we'll ever get this right?" Tim asks quietly though his voice sounds loud as it cuts through the silence that hangs above them. He has a busted lip, the deep red a strong contrast on his pale skin as blood dripped down the side of his chin. He could feel the wet cold of the snow seeping through his uniform, chilling his bones and numbing the aching bruises on his back. His pulse had slowly declined after the adrenaline was just a small flame that pumped through his veins, and the need to be up and moving had long passed as the cold embraced him and pulled him down into the icy concrete of the rooftop. He was fairly certain that their blood was staining the snow, and he could only be grateful that it was still snowing.

Tim turned his head to look at his companion, lips slightly parted as puffs of air escaped passed his lips. His blue eyes seemed strangely warm against the icy snow, and they never failed to make Jason's stomach flip. The older man just huffed at him and rolled his eyes.

"It was pretty much guaranteed that we wouldn't from the beginning," he muttered. There was no use sugar-coating it. They didn't fit. Well, at first they had fit together enough in order for the hope to become better was born. But that was false hope. They only got worse from there. Jason sure as hell misses those days that he could just wake up with Tim in his arms and there wouldn't be tension between them at all. Where he could watch him and admire him without worrying about the younger man waking up because he knew they'd get in a fight about _something_ later that day. He missed the days where he could just hold a conversation with Tim and it wouldn't end badly at all.

It seemed that those days were gone.

Tim still tried so hard to make Jason happy, though. God knows how much the kid is head over heels in love with him. He probably loved him when he was dead, and Tim still had the audacity to love him while Jason was _beating the shit out of him_ for the cowl. He could see it in his eyes; dim, but there. Now if that's not dedication, then Jason didn't know what was.

And here he was again, looking at Jason with love clearly in his eyes as he stared at him. Jason guessed that Tim wanted to reach out and touch him, but he didn't, and Jason didn't make a move to indulge him in that wish. They had gotten in a fight before patrol, and there issues transferred out onto the field, which earned them more wounds than were necessary. Hell, Jason even through the punched that split Tim's lower lip in two. He didn't really like looking at him because of that blatant reminder that he had abused Tim. Again. Jason didn't really like to dwell on those events. They just make him angry again, only this time at himself.

"But I still think we can work," Tim spoke quietly, the snow falling from the sky sticking to his hair and dampening the silky strands. Always the trooper.

"Well, that's one of us then," Jason grunted as he looked up into the dark sky, grimacing as the falling crystals fell on his face. Damn things are cold. He's glad he looked away because Tim's tone changed slightly, and Jason didn't want to see the look on his face. He's sure it would make him break and give in to the vicious cycle once more.

"What? You can't tell me you've given up," he said with a hint of defensiveness in his voice. But as he stared at Jason, he received no reply. "Jason, no. You can't just decide this. We can still make this work. We can–"

"Do what? Go back to us yelling at each other every fucking night? Dance around each other like we're a damned motion sensor bomb? Have me beat you again? How many times has it been now, Tim? Huh? No kiss will ever make that shit better, and you know it," he bit out as the cold nipped at his skin. He finally turned his head to look at Tim, his eyes and tone softening a bit, but in defeat. "The pieces don't fit together anymore, Tim. Nothing we can offer each other is worthwhile anymore." Tim shook his head, wincing at the sharp motion because he had hit his head earlier.

"You're wrong. We're just rough around the edges," he tried to persuade.

"Yeah. It's called our personalities. Tim, we. Don't. Work." Jason tried to enunciate every word to get through Tim's skull, but he knew that would be easier said than done because he's certain the kid has a concussion.

"But we–"

"We're done," Jason stated firmly. "You're no longer mine, and I'm no longer yours. I'll be out of your apartment in two days at the latest."

He could see the pain on Tim's face briefly before he masked it, and Jason felt sick to his stomach knowing that he did this to him again. He's leaving. And that was the end of that.

But Tim jerked his arms out and gripped Jason's sleeve when he sat up and made a move to leave.

"Tim, it's a done deal," he sighed.

"No, not that. Just…" Tim licked his lower lip, tasting the copper tang of blood. "Stay and watch the snow with me?" Jason paused and stared down at him.

"… Tim, you have a concussion."

"Doesn't matter. Just… please? Just this once?" he asked hopefully, readjusting his grip on Jason's jacket. Jason stared down at him for a while before he sighed and sat back down next to him.

"Fine," he said, and he looked straight ahead over the city. And Tim, he just curled against the older man's arm and whispered a soft "thank you" as he let his cheek rest on the man's shoulder.

Jason wasn't sure how long they stared at the snow as it slowly made its descent upon the city. Couldn't have been more than an hour. But he let Tim lie against his shoulder the entire time. He could only think of what would happen now.

Tim would overwork himself, make sure that he had more than he could handle in a stressful week, and he would practically live in WE. He'd probably start to forget how to eat so Dick would most likely keep an eye on him if Jason asked 'nicely'. And Tim would just work himself to a breakdown because he'd try and figure out what exactly went wrong because he knew "it could work out somewhere and somehow," and he'll be devastated because he somehow miscalculated.

But Jason also knew that Tim could watch the snowfall in peace. Watch as the white blankets the ground all around at a gradual pace. Without having to worry about where Jason is and when he'll be back. Because Jason's never coming back.


	2. Day 2: Gift Shopping

**12 Days of** **JayTim**  
_Bennet's and Darcy's_

Jason isn't really sure what he's looking for, and he lets out a small grunt as he opens the door to yet another store. He's been looking around for a gift to give Tim for _weeks_ now, and every time he ends up empty handed. He's not even sure what Tim _needs_ either. What does a rich boy who likes simple things and has everything actually need? And the boy is so cryptic when Jason bluntly asks because god knows he sucks at being discreet with these things.

"_So, do you have a Christmas list or some type of shit?" he'd ask.  
_

"_I'm not a kid, Jason," he'd reply with a roll of the eyes. "I don't need anything, Jason. Just stay with me, okay? That's it."_

Tim's totally helpful in telling him what he wants. And it just really pisses Jason off because he wants to buy him one damn thing that's going to mean something to him. Not something that's just going to go to waste eventually or just something that's going to collect dust on a shelf. He knows what he's looking for is hard, but he wants to buy something that will be eternal for Tim. Oh, and it has to be simple, too, because Tim's simple.

Tim always knows what Jason wants, whether it's a new gun that Jason takes longer to polish so he can admire it, a beautiful leather jacket that Jason had chewed him out for because it was so damn expensive (he managed to find the receipt), or even a new book because Jason and Tim are complete literary geeks. And sometimes, he'd even get a coupon booklet for sex any time anywhere, and Tim had to oblige every time. He's almost certain that the younger man will never do that again because Jason really used those coupons to his advantage, and he's sure Tim had never done anything much outside his confines of comfort, which meant in an apartment that was either Jason or Tim's. Jason still smiles at the thought of Tim red-faced when he said "Bruce's room." Good times, but now it was Jason's turn.

And Jason _really_ wants to make Tim so happy, even just once, with a gift. Something small, something meaningful. It didn't have to be big by any means, so Jason's been searching small store by small store, particularly jewelry stores. They usually have small items, and the vigilante always found himself staring begrudgingly at the diamonds under the glass case.

Jason didn't really like diamonds. Yeah, he guessed they were pretty. To girls. Or Dick. Dick liked shiny and sparkly things, but Jason tried to avoid them. He found them too feminine and most were blood diamonds, and he was completely against those. Not to mention, who the hell would he give a diamond ring to? Surely not Damian, but he couldn't help but imagine the look on the demon brat's face if he opened up a package to find a sparking white, six hundred dollar engagement ring. He's pretty sure he'd have to be even more alert than usual because the little snot would definitely make him his number one target.

But then he thought of a diamond ring on Tim's finger and it just seemed _wrong_. Tim may be the submissive in the relationship (usually), but he was no girl. And Tim would flip shit on him if he bought him a diamond ring. God, he didn't even think Tim would wear a diamond even if he was a girl. He's just too… _Tim_. And Jason was perfectly fine with that.

Still, Jason found himself wandering into these jewelry stores, looking for something to give to Tim for Christmas. Tim didn't need watches, he had plenty. Not to mention, Bruce always seemed to give him a nice one whenever he knew one of Tim's was broken. There weren't any necklaces here that would suit Tim. Sure, he could buy him a set of pearls for whenever Tim had to crossdress for a mission, but he'd like to keep his balls intact, thank you. And no way was he getting an expensive diamond. Tim would break his nose.

Jason looked around the shop for a while, ignoring the clerk completely as he found nothing yet again. Of course he was in the wrong place, he knew that. It was actually really annoying that he kept coming to these places. It's not like he was going to marry Tim. He wasn't into that. He wasn't that into Tim either. Well, not enough to ask him to marry him. At least he didn't think so.

With a disgruntled sigh, Jason walked out of the shop and back onto the cold streets. This had to be one of the worst times of the year because it involved shopping for Tim. And having to deal with Dick during Christmas was bad enough. Jason scuffed his boot against the snow on the sidewalk, watching some of the fluff fly up into the air before landing back down on the ground as he walked.

Then he heard a soft bell ring to his right, and he turned to look when a customer left a small shop. His eyes glanced over the wooden building that stood out among the other fancy and expensive stores. It described everything that Tim would deem "cute." Probably because it was an antique store, but Jason was just as appealed to it as Tim would be.

"Might as well," he muttered to himself before he stepped inside, the scent of fragrant candles instantly hit his senses. It felt warm and cozy, and he was even surprised to see that the place had a fireplace. That was different.

Oceanic eyes searched over the shelves that held wooden music boxes, plates, Victorian necklaces, vases, and so many more objects that Jason didn't even know the names to. There were books that smelled musty, but were clean oddly enough, but Jason stayed away from those. He did, however, find an antique poetry book that he picked because Tim was a sucker for poetry. And this thing looked legit since it was handwritten and leather bound, so Tim might fangirl a bit over that.

But Jason needed to get him something else. Yeah, the book was beautiful, but it wouldn't be enough. Not for him. So he kept searching, and when he found something, he felt his stupid heart plummet down into his stomach. And he knew he had to buy it.

"I'm fucked," was all he said before he bought the two items and left the store in a hurry so he wouldn't turn right back around and return them.

Jason was totally right about Tim fangirling over the book. Watching his face was priceless when he felt the leather admiringly and then read the first page. At least he made a good choice on that one. It did earn him a very _thorough_kiss that left his pants just a little bit uncomfortable for his liking.

But the funny thing was that Tim was just thanking him like he wasn't getting anything else, and Jason tried not to back out and not give him the other thing he bought from the antique store. So he cleared his throat and looked at him a bit grimly.

"There's something else. That I got you," he managed to say, and Tim arched a quizzical brow.

"Oh? You didn't have to, you know. This was enough, and I love it, but okay. What is it?" he asked, turning towards him as they sat on the couch. Jason licked his lips nervously before he dug through his pocket and pulled out a small box that the woman at the shop had kindly wrapped for him.

"Here," he said, handing it over to him, and Tim took it with soft, gentle hands. He shot him a curious glance before he carefully open the box, eyebrows furrowed the entire time. And boy did those perfectly sculpted brows shoot up in surprise when he saw what was inside. His mouth gaped a bit, and Jason briefly wondered if Aquaman was somewhere and was about to turn him into a fish. But Tim quickly clenched his mouth shut and held up a silver ring. It didn't have any gems or diamonds on it, and it was just a bit thicker than a normal wedding band. Intricate swirls wrapped around the entire band, creating a beautiful and timeless design, and Jason grew more nervous the longer Tim remained silent and stared at it.

"This," Tim began quietly after a long, nerve wrecking silence on Jason's end. "This looks like a Regency wedding band from–"

"From the same period that Pride and Prejudice was set in," Jason finished for him with a soft nod. "I found it in the same store with the book, and, well, I decided to get it." He glanced at Tim's face nervously when the younger man looked at him completely speechless.

"I– Jason, this. I don't know what to say." Or really what it meant. Jason reached over and gently plucked the ring from Tim's fingers and played with it.

"I dunno. I just found the thing and damn, I swear it was calling out to me. It just seemed so… you. And… I bought it. I guess what I'm asking is…" Jason looked him straight in the eyes as he held the ring up. "Stay with me?"

And it was as if that was possible the greatest gift Jason could have offered because Tim was just spluttering nervously and no coherent words were coming out so he just nodded sporadically, and before Jason knew it, Tim was just in his lap and trying to squeeze his lungs out of his chest.

"Hey, hey. I said 'stay,' not kill me," he grunted, but hugged Tim back because he had just been so nervous about the entire thing.

"Thank you, Jason," he whispered into the broad chest before he leaned up to nuzzle Jason's neck.

"… So I did okay?" he asked warily, completely surprised.

"You did better than okay," Tim assured him and pressed a soft kiss to his neck.

"… Does this mean I get another coupon book?"

"Okay, now you're pressing your luck," Tim huffed but smiled against his neck.

"Damn. Okay then, fine," he said and then poked the side of Tim's head. "Y'know, I almost bought you an actual diamond." And Tim jolted up and looked at the man with a horrified expression.

"Ew, really? _Ew._ Jason, why? I would have broken your nose," he huffed in disgust, which resulted in a deep laugh from Jason.

"Yeah, I know. So I got one for Damian instead."

"_What?_" Tim hissed in surprise.

"Hey, don't worry. It's fake. And I was smart and tagged the box saying it was from Dick," Jason said with that lopsided, sleazy grin of his. And once the context of the words settle into Tim's brain, he gave him that small, devilish smirk of his own.

"That's evil. I knew I liked you for a reason," he hummed.

"Besides my striking good looks?"

"I'm still willing to break your nose."

"Yeah, yeah. Just c'mere and kiss me."

And Jason's pretty sure that he wouldn't need that coupon book this year because he's fairly certain he's got Tim wrapped around his finger for the next decade.


	3. Day 3: Date Night

**12 Days of JayTim  
**_Stress and Sandwiches_

No matter what Tim did, his eyes always flickered to the beige clock mounted on the wall. It was completely involuntary, and he would always mentally (or outwardly) scold himself every time. He was just so energetic today. Perhaps too much sugar in his coffee? No, it was the same amount that he always used; three packets to take away the blatant bitterness. He's not exactly sure why today's any different for him. Maybe all of this paperwork has finally started to eat its way through his patience. It wouldn't surprise him because all of these files and meetings and possible court cases are just plain ludicrous.

Or perhaps it's what's planned for after his shift, for when he goes back to his apartment. He cleared his throat at the thought. Either way, even though staring at endless files and charts was driving him up a wall, staring at the clock every two minutes and listening to the continuous "tick tock" would drive every ounce of sanity he ever possessed out of his body. He'd like to keep his stability in check, thank you.  
He'd have to invest in a digital clock.

Five o'clock rolled around much too slowly for Tim's liking, but he was going to take it gratefully, nonetheless. As he was packing his briefcase with work he'd have to complete on his own time back at home, his office phone began to ring. Tim's pretty sure Alfred would have given him the look of shame if he heard the curses rolling around in Tim's head. With a sigh, he picked up the phone. And boy, did it take every muscle in his body not to slam the phone down and chuck it out the window.

"You _what_?" he spoke darkly into the receiver. He ran a hand through his hair as he listened to the annoying voice on the other end, his hand turning into a tight fist as the voice continued to speak. "You _lost_ it. You're joking, right? You better be joking because that is due on my desk tomorrow at _eight a.m._ The entire enterprise is depending on this project, _and you fucking lost it_?" Tim was about ready to yank out his hair. He wanted to strangle someone, particularly the idiot he was talking to.

"This project took the team _three weeks_ to do on _their_ part. Did you even bother to do anything before you lost it? Wait, you want _me _to redo it? Why should I, it was your responsibility. I have my own projects to worry about. You have to be kidding me, I am not–" He began to pace around his desk, tugging roughly on his hair before he huffed in disbelief.

"What the hell am I supposed to present tomorrow? A 'Sorry, but my team accidentally deleted the entire files from the system,' maybe? That's not going to cut it. Okay. Okay, you know what? I will do the entire project over again that was _your_ responsibility and I will make sure that you will be not be permitted to step foot in Wayne Enterprises again by the end of this week," he hissed into the phone before he violently hung up the phone.  
Great. Just great. Now he had to complete a project that he had no responsibility to prior. Let's forget the fact that he should have been out of the building over ten minutes ago. Now he probably wasn't even going to make it home. He set his briefcase back down on his desk with a bit more force than necessary, and he just fell back into his chair.

"Fantastic," he muttered bitterly to himself before he pulled his laptop back out and set to fixing everyone else's problems. He didn't even bother to call Jason; or rather, he forgot to.

His cell phone started to ring loudly in the office, breaking Tim's concentration, and the man groaned in frustration. He ripped the phone out of his pocket and answered the call, hissing "_what?"_ into the phone.

"Whoa, whoa. Hey. What died and shoved itself up your ass?" asked a gruff voice. Jason. "And where the hell are you? You were supposed to be here over forty five minutes ago."

Tim groaned and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Right. It was their date night. "I'm sorry, Jason," he sighed, "but I can't make it. I'm stuck at the office."

"Wait, you're still there?"

"Yeah. Probably all night too. Some idiot messed up and I have to clean up the mess. So until it's finished, I stay here. Sorry, Jason," Tim apologized.

"So… night's cancelled?" he asked, and he sounded a bit more disappointed than he would have liked.

"Afraid so," the younger man murmured. In truth, he'd rather just be curled up against Jason's side because he's warm, relax a bit. Unwind from the stressful workday. Maybe be _really_ intimate because that's always nice and fun. But no, not today. "I'll see you later," was all he said, and he waited for the "yeah, later" before hanging up. He sighed again before burying his face in his hands. He really wished he had another cup of coffee. He'd have to get one soon if he planned to stay up all night in the office. He'd rather not fall asleep and drool on his laptop, thanks.

Eight p.m. rolled around sooner than Tim had wanted it to, and he wasn't even halfway done. Didn't anyone ever hear of flashdrives? Come on. This was ridiculous. He could even feel the caffeine begin to wear off and damn, what a migraine. And then someone had the _nerve_ to simply walk in his office. What the hell?

"Ever hear of knocking?" he inquired bitterly without even looking up from his laptop. He was answered with a snort as a hand set down a steaming cup of coffee and a paper bag.

"Ever hear of a 'give your boyfriend a call'?" he asked, though it was more of a playful jest. He understood anyway. Tim looked up at him in surprise.

"Jason."

"The one and only," he replied with his trademark smirk.

"What are you doing here?" Tim asked, though he sort of got the picture by looking at the food and inviting coffee.

"Bringing you your crack. What else?" he huffed. "Figured you didn't eat, so I brought you something." And Tim just pursed his lips before he sighed.

"Jason, I appreciate the thought, really, but I don't have time to eat," he said.

"What, and you have time to kill yourself? Totally understandable," he voiced sarcastically, eyebrows arched. "C'mon, eat."

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," Tim recited

"Or makes you crazier. Seriously, it's just a sandwich. C'mon. Don't make me force feed you," he mock threatened, though if things got that far, he probably would do it.

"Jason, I need to get this done," he said evenly.

"And you need to eat."

"I'm being serious," the younger man said, looking Jason in the eyes.

"And so am I," he replied before he hopped up onto Tim's desk. "So eat."

"Jason, do you even know how important this entire assignment is? It is a huge investment that many other corporations will be a part of, and some_idiot_ ruined the entire thing so now _I_ have to do it all," he said bitterly. "And I–"

"Can chill," Jason said. "I've already taken care of it." The look on Tim's face was priceless because his eyes narrowed to wary slits very slowly, and his upper lip twitched ever so lightly as it tried to form the correct words.

"…What?" he asked. What did that even mean.

"I _said_ I took care of it," he said, sitting up with a smug look on his face. "Meaning the asshole who messed the entire thing up will have the finished assignment on your desk by the appropriate time – seven, was it?"

"It was eight," Tim corrected.

"Guess you'll have it a little early then," Jason mused, and there was that wolfish grin again. It took Tim a while to compute everything the older man just said, but he looked up at him with impressed and slightly relieved eyes.

"I love you." The words rolled easily off his tongue, and it even resulted in a soft chuckle from Jason.

"Yes, I know."

"No, I mean I _really _love you," he breathed. This was possibly the nicest thing Jason ever did for him because he just earned him a night where he can sleep instead of work at the office. "Wait, what did you do?"

"That's for me to know and for you to never find out," he drawled with a smirk. Tim stared at him for a little while before he shrugged it off. Good enough for him. "Now eat up."

"Can I eat you?" Tim asked with perked eyebrows, and Jason spluttered just a little bit.

"I meant _real_ food," he said as he reached into the bag and held up a sandwich. "Like this… But we'll see. _After _you eat."

He handed the food to Tim, and with an eyebrow still raised, Tim asked almost hopefully, "Office sex?"

"Okay, that's not fair. You know I can't decline that." It was almost a bit of a whine, and Tim smiled from behind his sandwich.

He didn't think he'd mind seeing his office for a few days after that.


	4. Day 4: Misteltoe

**12 Days of JayTim  
**_Hypocritical Holden_

"Dick, do you even know how _wrong_ the words that are coming out of your mouth sound?" Tim asks his older brother incredulously.

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"Dick, do you even know how _wrong_ the words that are coming out of your mouth sound?" Tim asks his older brother incredulously. And the older man shrugs at him.

"They sound perfectly right to me," he says in short reply, oblivious to the intensity of the situation.

"You just suggested that I corner Jason under a mistletoe," he relays, "and then _kiss_ him."

"Yep. That's what I said, alright."

"… _Why_?" he asks, and it comes out sounding like a hiss. The entire situation Dick is suggesting just screams _no_.

"Well, why not?" he asks, cerulean eyes landing on Tim. Dick's arm was thrown lazily over the couch, and he slouched into the cushions, relaxed and comfortable, which was the exact opposite of how Tim felt.

"_Because you're asking me to kiss him_," he hisses. "You know, as in pressing my mouth against his."

"Yes, Tim, I am completely aware of what 'kissing' means," he drawls, though the boy's nervousness elicited a smile from the man. "But you have to start somehow. I'm kind of sick of you two just dancing around each other. Christ, I feel like if this continues, one of you is going to jump the other like a horndog. It's just a kiss, Tim."

"Yes, but who the hell starts a– did you just refer to me as a horndog?" Tim asks dubiously, his eyebrows arched quizzically. "Really. Wow. Um, anyway, who starts a relationship with a kiss? I don't even know if he likes me."

"Then you're really bad at reading other people then, little brother," Dick teases and ruffles Tim's hair. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Well, he could gut me," Tim suggested. "Or strangle me. Again. Or shoot me in the knee. That sounds like it'd really hurt. And then he'd probably shoot you because you suggested it."

"Okay, okay. I get it. But I swear to god if you two continue to give each other lustful, wanton looks when the other's head is turned, I _will_ interfere."

"You're impossible," Tim huffs, but he looks around all of the doorways and arches. "You're going to rig the entire place with mistletoe, aren't you?"

"You know me so well," he coos and bats his eyelashes.

"Shut up," he grumbles before he sighs. This is going to be a long holiday.

Tim can at least say he's had the pleasure to hang out with Jason without having to dread about doltish mistletoe; though, he won't lie and say he's been trying to avoid the older man, but Jason always seemed to find him somehow. And currently, they were stuck in the library of the mansion.

"Are you trying to tell me that this book holds no fundamental values whatsoever?" Tim asks cynically.

"Well, Holden's just a hypocrite who cusses much more than I do, thanks, and he calls everyone a phony. Kind of gets a little annoying," Jason replies.

"Jason, the boy has depression, possibly hypochondriasis, and is suicidal. Dude, he kind of sounds like you," Tim drawls.

"The hell?" Jason hisses.

"You swear and kill criminals, and you want to keep children innocent. Kinda sound like Holden, only you're a bit more extreme," he said with a shrug. And Jason just huffs and wants to throw a book at him.

"Fine, _fine_. Okay. The fucking bildungsroman is valuable. Sort of. Now can we please get something to eat?" he asked and rolled his eyes.

"Now you sound like him," Tim teased, and he smiled slightly when Jason playfully shoved him.

"Okay, I did not say 'phony'. Who the hell even says that anyway?" he huffed as they both walked over the doorway. Tim leaned against the frame lazily, looking at Jason with interest.

"Technically, you just said it," he pointed out, and Jason began to grumble under his breath.

"Can't we just talk about _Fahrenheit 451_ or something?" he asked.

"So, you want to talk about a book that's entire plot is really just the burning of other books?" Tim asked.

"Yes, because I bet they burned _Catcher in the Rye_," he said with that sleazy smirk of his.

"You're evil," Tim glowered playfully and shoved Jason who just laughed at him, eyes still dancing with mirth.

"Never said I played nice," he drawled.

Tim took this moment to really look at Jason, and he briefly began to think that Dick was right. Jason's hands were shoved in his jean pockets as he leaned against the opposite doorframe, his posture slouched and relaxed. That was pretty rare for Jason because he was always guarded some, but he seemed comfortable around Tim. His eyes always held that indistinguishable glint in his eyes whenever he'd mess around with the younger man, and his smiles were always different. Like right now. His smirk had faded into something a bit softer. It's nothing like Dick's gentle, sweet grins, but it has its own softness added into the gruffness. It was completely Jason.

And Tim was hopelessly head over heels for him.

And he took that moment to glance up briefly, and he felt his stomach flip a bit because Dick did hold up on his promise. He probably raided the local store for all of their mistletoes. And he looked back down at Jason who was still wearing that smile, and Tim felt his heart beat a bit faster because he wanted to taste that grin. And he was pretty close to him already, so it'd be easy. Quick too. And before Tim could contemplate on whether or not this was a good idea or not or if his lips were too chapped, he found himself moving.

His hand gently grabbed the collar of Jason's jacket and pulled him down so he could press their lips together. And man, did he instantly become addicted to the taste of Jason's mouth. His mind was rushing far too quickly for him to be able to identify the taste other than _Jason_, and he didn't really care. He was too busy by the fact that _he was kissing Jason_. And for a split second, he could have sworn Jason had started to kiss him back before he was abruptly shoved away, his back hitting the doorframe. And by looking at Jason's face, he knew he had made a bad choice.

"What the _hell_?" he growled and then wiped his mouth forcefully before he looked up. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" he hissed. Tim couldn't even answer him. Not coherently, at least.

"I–"

"You _what_? Thought that a mistletoe made it okay to kiss me? That it'd make me feel the same or some shit like that?" he asked. "Because, news flash, it didn't. What you feel for me will _never_ be requited. Do you understand?"

There was a large lump stuck in the middle of Tim's throat, and it made it hard to breathe and swallow. He tried to clear his throat, but it still felt constricted.

"I made a mistake, okay?" he said a bit weakly, and he mentally berated himself for sounding so vulnerable. "Just let it go."

"I said, _do you understand_?" Jason asked, his expression and voice darkening; the younger man thought he was ready to lunge for his throat and rip it out. Tim blinked, eyes glancing between him and the hallway before he uttered a quiet "yes" and then fled the area.

Jason watched him walk away from him before he cursed under his breath. Everything was so messed up.

Dick opened the door to the balcony, his usually cheerful persona having given away to something grimmer. He folded his arms and leaned against the doorway as he stared at the other man who was resting his elbows on the banister.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked in a grunt before he took a long drag from his cigarette.

"Why did you say what you did?" Dick asked, referring to the incident with Tim. Of fucking course.

"Because I fucking can," he grumbled, but his brother saw right through him.

"You didn't mean it," he said. And of course Jason didn't. He hadn't meant a single world he spewed at Tim. In truth, Jason liked Tim probably just as much as Tim liked him. But he didn't want him getting tangled up in his affairs. Jason lived a pretty nasty life of issues that were most likely never going to be resolved, and he didn't want to make Tim see the bare necessities of that. It wouldn't be fair, but then again, when were any of them fair? When was life fair? And the answer was never, but Jason wouldn't torture Tim by trying to make whatever it was that they had work. Even though he knew he was torturing the kid, and therefore himself, now by the way he chose to do things. And it was his choice.

"I know," he whispered out into the dark, cold night. _Sorry_.


	5. Dy 5: Decorating

**12 Days of JayTim  
**_Whipped_

Christmas at the Drake manor was something that Tim would always face with dread every year when he was a child. Not just because there was always so many people congesting the entire mansion, nor was it because his parents had to be home for the festivities (though they did play a special part in his miserableness.

It was because of decorating.

It's almost guaranteed that kids love color. Reds and blues and greens, every color possible. Yet the only color that was ever present in Drake manor during Christmas was gold. They had a grand, green tree that would be decorated from top to bottom in gold ornaments, pearls, even tinsel. Even the tree skirt was gold. The color of luxury, wealth, beauty – all to portray just how rich and sophisticated the Drakes really were.

And it was sickening.

In grade school, kids would make their own ornaments in class right before the holiday so that they can hang them on the tree. And every year, young Tim would make one with a bright smile on his face and hope that his parents would like it. And when he'd present them, all he'd get was a "that's nice, dear," as manicured fingers plucked the ornament from small hands and placed it on the cool tabletop. Without a glance. And once Tim hit fifth grade, he'd make the ornament for credit before he'd throw it in the trash at the end of the school day. Because if he gave it to his parents, it would end up there eventually when he wasn't looking.

It wasn't even fun decorating either because everything had to be perfectly placed. Everything had to be evenly spaced out, and the light had to hit it perfectly. And every year at the party, all the guests would compliment on how beautiful the tree and the entire place was, and Tim had to try his best not to gag. Even the _food_ was gold, or of similar color. Talk about taking things too far.

And even now as Tim sits in his very own apartment (which he has taken to great measures to not have a single gold item present – which is very hard – thank you), he _still_ hates decorating. Not that he had very much holiday spirit to being with. Dick tried to change that, but all Tim did in response was throw all the ribbons and mistletoes in his face and walk away. Even Steph and Cass – _Cass_ – tried to get him to even help decorate the tree. Maybe even hang some garlands around his apartment, which were gold, and he might have hissed at the thing. He just hoped that he wouldn't hear from Alfred because how could he ever say no to him? He'd die from shame if he said no to him, but luckily the man hasn't been seen or heard from lately, so he thinks he's good.

Tim's so grateful when he steps into his apartment, which is _completely_ lacking of any holiday themes and annoying, festive people, after his workday, and he's just about ready to collapse onto his bed. But there's an issue; he can't. Because there's a small, oblong box sitting there. _And it's wrapped_ – thankfully not in gold. Tim's so wary of it, and he even set about to make sure there wasn't any explosives or traps. Talk about paranoid.

Once he was sure the thing wasn't going to blow up in his face, he carefully unwrapped the box – that was very poorly wrapped. The entire thing nearly came undone with just a small nudge – to find two cans of peppermint whipped cream: one green and one red.

Tim's utterly confused because: one, why does he have two cans of flavored cream?; two, who gave him these?; and three, _who the hell gifts someone whipped cream_?

"So, heard you hate decorating." Tim jolted just a little bit, not that he'd admit to it, and he turned around in surprise at the sudden, sultry voice. And the second his eyes landed on Jason, he frowned.

"This was you?" he asked, though by looking at that lopsided grin, he already knew the answer.

"I might have had something to do with it," he drawled. The younger man huffed at him, the cans cold in his palms.

"Could you tell me why?" he inquired with an arched brow. "Really, the suspense is killing me," he drawled sarcastically. Jason pushed away from the doorway, wolfish grin still present on his lips, and he stopped maybe a foot away from Tim.

"Thought I'd help you out with your decorating problem," he said. Tim just raised his other eyebrow, and Jason's smirk widened. "Wouldn't you like to decorate me?"

His teasing tone and suggestion nearly made Tim gape in surprise, but good thing he's used to things like this now to control that reaction. He looked up at Jason before he let the cans roll back onto the bed, and had them both on the bed in record time. And Jason just laughed heartily because Tim could be as much predictable as he was unpredictable.

"I'll take that as a yes," he hummed.

"You're evil," Tim huffed, but busied himself by nipping at the man's jaw.

"Never said I was nice."

Tim thought he could deal with holiday decorating if this was the definition for every year.


	6. Day 6: Snuggling

**12 Days of JayTim  
**_He Keeps Me Warm_

Jason's lips form a thin line as he sits in the extremely uncomfortable chair beside the bed. His hands are nothing but tight fists that turned his knuckles fleeten white as they rested upon his thighs. He felt his chest constrict as the younger man began to cough violently again, and all Jason could do was pray that no red would splatter pale skin and white bed sheets again. Last time that happened, Jason was all but forced out of the room because Tim couldn't breathe, and he wasn't allowed back inside for an entire day. He wasn't exactly the best company to have around for that large span of time.

But he was here now, and the most he was doing was holding his breath and hoping that the younger man didn't just keel over and die. Jason didn't think he'd be able to live with himself after that. His eyes never left Tim's frail figure, and he quickly searched Tim once his lungs decided to give him a break. There weren't any blood splatters on the sheets, his nose wasn't bleeding, and his breathing didn't seem too bad. And Jason let out a quiet, relieved sigh at that.

He can't help being so wound up about Tim. Ever since that kid walked into the café that one day seven months ago, he had completely changed his life. They'd exchange witty comments and snarks here and there over the counter with the occasional flirt because that's just how Jason rolled. And the red hue that always colored Tim's cheeks were enough to make him happy for the entire day. Jason even started buying him a coffee now and then because the boy always religiously came at least once a day, if not twice. Then their friendship began to develop amongst iced chai lattés and frozen hot chocolates.

And how were they supposed to know that Tim would be diagnosed with Leukemia three months later?

It was a shock to them both. They both thought that Tim was just keen to nosebleeds due to cold weather; it was autumn, after all, and the warmth of the summer was slowly giving way to chilly winds. But Tim would always get these awful bruises everywhere, especially on his back, and he wouldn't know where they came from. He scared the living piss out of Jason when he just passed out when they were taking a walk. He was talking to Jason, and then all of a sudden, he was on the ground and completely unconscious. Jason had been so in shock that he nearly forgot to call 911.

Tim had come to in the ambulance, and there was fear in his eyes because he didn't know where he was, where they were going, or who these people were. And this is not a common scenario that he wakes up to, and Jason, who had been allowed to ride in the ambulance, grabbed the hand that didn't have anything connected to it.

If it hadn't been for Tim who had requested for Jason to be with him, Jason would have been left in the hospital hallway for who knows how long. After all of the blood work they ran Tim threw, he had looked so tired, but he smiled weakly at Jason and thanked him. That is, until a nurse took out a very large and menacing needle that was about the size of his forearm. Tim immediately began to have a bit of a panic attack because that was a freaking long and thick needle. Jason had offered to hold his hand, but what he got was a death grip of a hug around his neck as the nurse inserted the needle that went through his hipbone to collect bone marrow. And from how tightly Tim had held onto him to the surprised yelp, Jason would say it had hurt like hell.

It was a huge pain in the ass too after Tim was diagnosed because he was instantly quarantined and Jason had to go through extensive procedures in order to make sure he was clean enough to see Tim. But Jason always put up with it because he didn't want to be the reason Tim got worse, and he needed to be there for Tim.

Because no one else ever would be.

Tim had parents, sure, and the only reason why he is able to stay in this hospital without a bill is because the rich bastards are paying it. But they never came to visit him. All they did was send the hospital the money and that was that. They really didn't care. Tim didn't have very many friends either. Just a few, but he didn't want Jason to call them.

So all Tim had was Jason, and damn it, Jason promised himself that he'd do this right. Promised both himself _and _Tim.

And here they are now. Tim's lost a lot of weight since he's first been admitted, and his voice is all raw and gritty from the chemo. He's gotten so sick that the acid's damaged his throat. Jason nearly cried when the boy's hair started to fall out because it's just plain sad. Tim had asked him to shave his head so it wouldn't be so messy. Jason had _loved_ his hair. Simply adored it because it was so easy to play and mess with, and it always smelled nice. And now it was gone.

Jason would just glare at the IV bags that held the chemicals because they were just making Tim so sick along with the pills he had to take. Jason even found it hard to believe that the shit was even helping him. But damn Tim always gave him a weak smile and said "it's going to be okay."

And you know what? It's not.

Jason is so worried about Tim because he's afraid that even if he blinks, Tim will be gone. Tim's been bed ridden for five months, and he can tell it's killing him. Jason's not even sure on how Tim even has the strength to smile at him and _lie_ to his face. It's not going to be okay. Tim's going to die, and Jason is certain that Tim knows this.

And Jason just wants to scream. To scream at him and yell and blame him for it all. For falling in love with him only to have some stupid disease slowly rip him from his grasp. He just wants to lie down and cry.

All because Tim's going to die.

So Jason just pushes himself away from his chair so abruptly that Tim looks a bit taken aback, like he thinks Jason's just going to leave. Jason even saw the brief fear in his eyes. But then Jason just came closer and hopped up into the bed, lying on his side so he wouldn't be pushing Tim or obstructing any wires.

"Jason?" Tim asks quietly, a bit nervously because this is strange, yet there's just a small hint of amusement there. "What are you doing?" Jason responds by carefully wrapping his arms around him and moving so Tim can use the older boy's chest as a pillow.

"It's called snuggling," Jason huffed, but he pressed a soft kiss to that smooth head, and he tried not to shake a bit at how _wrong _that entire thing is. He keeps his lips there, and he closes his eyes. "Tim, I know."

"Know what?" he asks with a soft huff that was meant to be a light laugh, but he thinks he already knows the answer to that question. Jason inhales deeply, eyes still closed as he tries to make his words come out smooth and not shaky.

"Tim, it's okay. No one's going to judge you. I know you're scared." _I know you have no hope. I know that you know you're going to die. Whether it be months from now or a few years. I know_.

"I'm… I'm not scared," he said, though his words held a small tremble, and Jason could feel his fingers lightly curl against his chest. Tim was absolutely terrified.

He'd never even gone on an actual date before. He's never been in a relationship before. He had never been as happy before he had met Jason. And now, he's not even sure he can do any of those things or see Jason smile again. So he began to cry silently into the warm chest, starting with a choked, hoarse sob that just escalated to those silent sobs that would result with a coughing fit, and they both knew it.

But he knew that the best part of the entire thing was that Jason would never tell a soul about what had just happened, and he would continue to hold him long after Tim fell asleep.


	7. Day 7: Naughty or Nice

**12 Days of JayTim  
**_Candy Canes and Santa Hats_

It wasn't exactly one hundred percent ideal, but it was currently working really well for them. Just the feel of Jason's hot mouth sucking and biting bruises into his neck to the rough friction of their jeans provided with every thrust and grind. It was seventy-five degrees in the small apartment, but every touch sent waves of heat through Tim's body, and it sure as hell felt hotter than what the thermostat read. Tim was also sure that his boxers were going to be a complete mess once they decided that they really don't need pants to have sex. Whenever that was going to be.

"Jason," Tim moaned out. His voice was sultry and completely _dirty_. So shameless as he rocked against Jason. He always had a kink for dry humping, but he liked it when Jason was merciless with him. Not that he'd ever admit that, but it can also be assumed that Jason knows _everything_ when it comes to Tim. Every contour, every defined muscle, and (his favorite) every sound that the younger man could make. The noises Tim made could drive someone insane. Just the thought made Jason rut up against him with a bit more force.

"You going to sing for me, pretty bird?" he purred, the sound so predatory that it went straight to Tim's groin. Jason went down on him without an answer, kissing and licking at pert nipples, scarred skin, and beautifully defined abs. Tim would probably kill him for leaving so many marks, but the younger man seemed too preoccupied with fucking Jason's thigh, so it didn't really matter at the moment.

With one swift tug, Tim's jeans and underwear were suddenly down to his knees, and Jason had somehow managed to maneuver himself between those pale thighs. He smiled wolfishly at him, white teeth sharp as he hovered over the younger vigilante. His hand disappeared into his back pocket, and he pulled out two condoms.

"Red or green, babybird?" he asked with that sleazy grin, and Tim was sober enough to give him an incredulous look.

"… Are those peppermint flavored?" he asked.

"You betcha," he replied with a chuckle, though he tossed the green condom to the side because he knew Tim preferred him in red. After he tugged his pants down enough, he tore the package out with his teeth, watching Tim's stomach flex in appreciation from the small show, and he carefully rolled it onto his leaking member.

"Are those candy canes? Oh my god, there are candy canes on the condom. Jason, what even?" Tim asked, completely disbelieving, but he also was trying not to crack a smile because _candy canes_. "And why the hell are you wearing a Santa hat? I do not have a Santa kink."

Jason laughed at him, the sound deep and rich. "Oh, but I think you do. Such a naughty boy," he answered, smacking the younger man's hip and enjoying the jolt and soft groan that followed.

"It looks cheesy," he huffed up at him, his fingers slowly raking down Jason's chest.

"And so isn't you singing 'Santa Baby' in the shower," he retorted with a smirk. Tim just spluttered up at him because he _might _have been imagining Jason dressed up as Santa while he sang that. But this was so uncalled for. Still made him feel really hot and flustered, though. Jason just continued to smile his infamous, lopsided grin as he teasingly sang the Christmas tune. And without warning, he suddenly entered Tim fully (another one of Tim's kinks that he knew).

It's funny how this all happened, really. Jason had spent the _entire_ day searching for any Christmas presents that could have possibly been for him, but he always came up empty handed. So it became his mission to try and find any signs of whether or not he was getting a good present or a _really_good present from Tim. He gave up after a few hours of nothing because there was literally _nothing_ to go by. So he walked into the living room to find Tim sitting on the couch wrapping presents, and he looked him straight in the eyes.

"Am I on your nice or naughty list?" he asked with his hands shoved in his jean pockets. The small smirk that slowly curled Tim's lips was with wolfish and every level of dirty.

"Jason, you're _always_ on my naughty list."

Tim probably planned everything just so they could have rough, steamy sex on the couch, but hey, Jason wasn't complaining at all. Every soft noise Tim made to him scratching his nails down Jason's bare back was intoxicating. The couch creaked quietly as he pounded him into the lush cushions, the addicting sound of their skin slapping making his groan quietly. Tim's heels dug into the man's lower back as well as he forced him closer until Jason just said "to hell with it" and threw his legs over his shoulders in order to go faster and deeper. The screams and mewls that spilled out of Tim's mouth made him quiver. And once Tim came all over his chest and face, the cum dripping down his face and over his right eye, Jason completely lost it and came.

Their chests heaved as they rode out their orgasms, and Jason even bent down to clean Tim with his tongue. Salty and completely _Tim_. After he pulled out and tied the condom (tossing aside when Tim wasn't paying attention), he grinned down at him.

"Don't worry, babe. You're on my naughty list too," he purred.


	8. Day 8: BakingCooking

**12 Days of Jaytim**  
_Food Isn't Shampoo_

"Did you know that eggs are a natural conditioner?" Tim asked as he studied one before cracking it open and pouring the contents into a large bowl. Jason grimaced at him from the idea of putting an egg in your hair.

"You are not using an egg as a shampoo," he huffed at him. Tim's hair was soft and silky as it was, and it smelled nice. No yolks were needed.

"But I already do," he said with an arched brow. And Jason nearly spewed his drink because he kisses the top of Tim's head every day.

"Ew, Tim. Ew. How can I ever eat eggs again? Don't they scramble in your hair? Ugh."

"Not if you don't take a hot shower. And I only have to wash my hair twice a week," he said with a shrug as he dumped the cake mix into the bowl because it was easier than making it from scratch.

Jason wrinkled his nose. "Damn it, Tim. You've made me lose my appetite."

"Boohoo," he drawled before he asked Jason to hand him the mixer. "You'll get it back somehow. Kinda counting on it."

"And why's that?" he huffed, but he was already behind Tim, hands lightly gripping the younger man's arms.

"Because you'll want to lick the spoon. And bowl. And the entire mixer," he said with a fond smile. His smile widened when Jason hummed in agreement, and when he just pressed kisses to his neck. Completely ignoring his hair. "Such a child," he huffed and poked him with the end of a wooden spoon. Jason just chuckled at him and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Hey, can you were nothing but an apron?" he asked out of the blue with a smirk.

"What?" Tim squeaked in surprise, spluttering because why would he ask that? Oh yeah, it's Jason. "No, Jason. I'm not Dick." Jason whined at him.

"But it would suit you," he huffed. "I mean, you baking is like a wet dream. Make some bread and it'd be heaven." Tim's definitely not telling Jason he was going to make some loaves later. Otherwise Jason just might screw him over the counter, and he's a little busy making mud balls right at the moment. Jason could find out later.

"Go melt the chocolate," he ordered, poking him some more with the spoon, and the man just grumbled before he went over to the bowl of chocolate melts.

"Jerk," he grumbled lamely.

He definitely wasn't saying that later on in the day though. Tim couldn't even look at a loaf of bread now without squirming a bit with reddened cheeks. Later after, he dropped off the mud balls, that he had strategically decorated as little Batmans, in Dick's room at the manor, tagging it from Damian. That's what the brat gets for dying his clothes pink. The things your brothers (and teammates and ex-girlfriends and every goddamn person in the world) will say and do to you when the majority of your wardrobe is now pink.

He'd say they're even for now.


	9. Day 9: Special Traditions

**12 Days of Jaytim  
**_Paper Cranes_

Jason started to buy hats for Tim because the kid always seemed so cold (and he just looked wrong without anything on his head at all. He just looked so sick bald, and it was a constant reminder that Tim was probably going to die). He mostly bought him beanies and knit caps since they were soft and warm. They offered a moment of brief happiness where they could both laugh because some of the hats were too big and they'd slide down the boy's face. And Jason would just chuckle at him (the corners of his eye crinkling slightly), cup his face, and give him a chaste kiss.

He'd love to kiss Tim longer, let his hands smooth over the soft skin of his arms, but he can't. Tim's too sick for that, and he wouldn't want to induce one of his violent coughing fits. Jason figured that if Tim wasn't sick, they'd probably be the type who would just make out on a couch, slow at times and rough at others. Just doing whatever pleased them, and Jason make a promised to himself that he would give Tim that; whether if it was after he got better or in a different life. Jason promised Tim that much at least.

But they settled for this. It made Tim smile genuinely longer, and that was a rare sight in itself. So they were okay with it for now. They had to be.

"So, is there anything you want for Christmas?" Jason asks the younger teen one day. Of course, there was always that one answer that hung heavily above their heads, threatening to break down any form of composure they owned. "I want to get better." But the two of them both knew that that was most likely never going to happen.

Tim hummed in thought, though, lightly biting his lip. "Not really," he said quietly before giving Jason a soft smile that made the older boy's stomach fall because he looked so sad. "As long as I have you, I don't want or need anything." Jason was all that Tim had and all that he wanted. As long as he could spend some time with him on Christmas, even if only for a minute, he'd be happy.

Jason reached over and gently squeezed Tim's bruised hand. "I'll always come see you. Always." And he has. Every day after his work shift, he has come to see Tim. He even visits him before he goes to school. He really wishes he could just skip, but he's fairly certain his brother would skin him alive. He leaned closer and pressed his lips lightly against Tim's forehead. "I wish I could take you outside."

The city park was now completely decked out with gorgeous lights, and there was the tallest tree that was decorated from head to toe. The snow would slowly make its descent and stick to everything in elegance, and he really wanted to take Tim. But Tim couldn't go outside or else he could get worse, and Jason didn't want to risk that.

Instead, Jason started this week tradition where he'd take Tim's camera and take pictures of anything and everything, and he'd have them developed by Friday so he could show them to Tim. He took pictures of his friends at school, his dorky older brother, some random objects and items, and scenery. He'd take pictures of sunsets and sunrises, the first snowfall, the snowmen the children in the park would make, and even the park lights. But a picture could only give so much. He wanted Tim there with him. He want to keep him close to his side, wrap a fluffy scarf around his neck to keep him warm, warm his hands between his own before giving his gloves to him, to have snowball fights together and just act light children. With the Christmas lights above them and all around.

But Jason knew he'd never be able to. Not as long as Tim was lying in this sickly white hospital bed.

Tim closed his eyes and nuzzled Jason's chin. "I know. I wish you could too." It's been so long now since he's been able to step outside. He hasn't stayed in the safe zone long enough for him to be able to go outside, even for five minutes. And they most certainly weren't going to let him outside in the cold weather. He kissed the tip of Jason's chin and then sighed softly.

"I'll do something for you, though," Jason assured him, completely determined. He'd definitely do something nice for him. He just didn't know what yet.

Tim chuckled softly and looked around the room. There were flowers to help brighten up the room as well as a few pictures that the kindergarten students at Jason's school drew for him, he had colorful, warm blankets that Jason and his friends had bought as well as pillows, and Jason even bought him new pajamas so he could actually have some pants.

"Jason, you've given me everything and more. I don't need anything. Really." But Jason wouldn't be deterred from this.

It took him days to figure out what to do. He didn't know what would be good enough, and he wanted something meaningful that would add color to Tim's daily life. He was strolled aimlessly through stores, trying to find something. He even went into the arts and crafts section, even though he had the artistic ability of a nail. But it was worth a shot. His eye was caught, though, on a square book that had a picture of an origami crane. He remembered Tim talking about origami once, saying that he always wanted to learn how, but he never got the chance.

Jason picked up the book that read "Senbazuru: Thousand Origami Cranes." He later found out that it was a kit with over a thousand six by six inch papers, beads, and strings that allowed a person to fold a thousand cranes. And legend says, it grants the receiver of the cranes a recovery from an injury or illness.

His grip on the kit tightened as his lips formed a tight line as he stared at it. He stood like that for about five minutes before he bought it. It was worth a shot. The beautiful colors and patterns of the paper would definitely add scenery to Tim's room. And maybe, just maybe…

Jason set out on making them right away. He'd make them in morning advisory, his lunch period, any study halls he had, any time that he had free. He didn't want Tim to know until he had at least one string done. He didn't show Tim until he had one hundred twenty cranes made (and even then, he wasted about twenty sheets of paper because he kept messing up and tearing the sheets). They were beautifully made, all different with the various colors and patterns, and Tim was so surprised when he pulled them out of the box.

Jason had taken the liberty to hang the three strings up. He still had twenty-two more to go, but this was a good start and he wanted Tim to at least have something for the holiday.

"I'm going to finish the thousand," Jason said as he took his usual seat by Tim's bedside and gently held his hand between his own. "I'm going to finish them for you." And pray for good luck.

Tim blinked at him, his eyes having a far too familiar burn to them, and he smiled weakly at him. "Thank you," he whispered as Jason carefully wrapped his arms around the frail body.

"And I'll make them for you every year," he whispered into Tim's hat. "It'll be our tradition."

Jason was dead serious about it too. He kept folding cranes until his hands felt numb. Dick even made him coffee on late nights to help keep him awake. He and many others had offered to help, but Jason always declined. He had wanted to make them all on his own. So in compensation, Dick had just kept buying him more paper because Jason always made mistakes here and there.

It was the middle of January, and Jason had managed to fold eight hundred and eighty cranes. Tim's room was bursting with color and life, and his heart always flipped in happiness when Tim would smile, and he'd give him a soft, lingering kiss. It was all worth it. The soft smiles to how emotional Tim got sometimes because he had just gotten back from another chemo session to see Jason hanging up more strings. It was all worth it in the end.

But Jason wasn't able to finish them in time. He had managed to fold nine hundred and sixty cranes, but it wasn't a thousand. He didn't make it in time. And he will never let that slide because he messed up again, and this time it might kill him.

But it was still a tradition, and every year he would fold a thousand cranes.

To wish Tim eternal life. Wherever he was.


	10. Day 10: Holiday Parties

**12 Days of Jaytim  
**_Excuses_

Tim never liked the extravagant galas he had to be present for. Whether they were hosted by the Drakes, Wayne, or by others, Tim didn't like them much at all. All they entailed was standing prim and proper while wearing a fake smile and answering the same questions at least twenty times and more. Tim was always mentally exhausted by the end of the parties, and his back always hurt from having stood as if a wooden plank had been strapped to his back. The Christmas parties were always the worse, though, because they were the biggest and the most… energetic. The talking never seemed to stop, and the hours turned into years. Every Christmas party was the same, regardless of who was the host.

Tim found them more bearable at times now that Jason had to attend. Dick was fair company until he was whisked away by all of the admiring women. But Jason would stand next to him and make snark remarks about the party as he messed with his tie. The thing was suffocating. Jason could be quite entertaining, both because of his endless complaints and grumbles, and also because he cleaned up quite nicely.

He filled out his tux quite handsomely with his broad shoulders and tall height. Tim could vividly imagine his firm muscles underneath the soft fabric, could almost feel how his warm skin felt under his hands. He'd never reach out and touch him, though. Not when the public eyes are watching them both like hawks. No, he'd just stand there and look pretty while Jason entertained him.

This party was no different. Bruce had his annual Christmas party to keep the public and potential partners happy, and Tim was whisked from guest to guest, making idle chatter before he moved onto the next. Tim always felt drained after the first thirty minutes of the galas, and he really wanted to just leave and relax for the rest of the night. Too bad he couldn't.

But when he saw Jason walk over to him (a bit faster than his usual pace), he felt some relief. It shouldn't be too bad now since Alfred had made him attend.

"Hey," Jason greeted gruffly as he fiddled with his tie. "How long do you think this'll take?" Tim huffed in amusement, as if the answer was obvious.

"A few hours, at least. As usual," he drawled as he took a sip of champagne, the liquid sliding down his throat and warming his chest. Jason groaned is dismay.

"Yeah, okay. I can't do this for a few more hours. So many women have pinched my cheeks and talked my ears to deaf. I'm so done," he huffed.

"And do what? Ditch the party?" he teased, taking another swig from his glass. He raised an eyebrow when Jason seemed to contemplate the idea. "You're joking, right?" Jason grinned sleazily at him before he suddenly grabbed his companion's wrist and tugged him out of the ballroom, Tim having to utter excuses here and there. "Where exactly are we going then?" Tim asked after they had escaped the congested party.

"Bathroom," Jason hummed.

"I'm flattered, but I'd rather not watch you pee," Tim drawled, but he was still yanked into one of the many bathrooms. Jason trapped him against a counter and smirked at him.

"I had something else in mind," he purred before his lips latched onto Tim's neck.

"Oh," Tim murmured, his mind not computing anything else because Jason's hot mouth was sucking and moving down to the crook of his shoulder. He didn't think he'd mind this. Jason sucked several dark marks into that soft, pale skin, and Tim lightly bat his head because he wouldn't be able to hide them. Jason just chuckled against his skin and pushed Tim's blazer off his shoulders before he set in on unbuttoning the white shirt.

"Please don't soil my tux," Tim requests as a second thought. Who knows if they have to return to the party.

"Yeah, yeah, pretty boy," he brushed off before he was pressing rough kisses and biting marks onto the warm skin as he ran his hands over Tim's flexing muscles. He loved marveling Tim's body, from his firm arms to his defined abs and, god, those heavenly thighs. Jason always enjoyed it when Tim decided to take control, and he'd straddle him with his strong legs. The older man always loved to just feel them up, watching Tim shiver lightly above him. He'd settle for this right now, though. Making Tim fall apart in one of the many bathrooms.

Without warning, Jason hoisted Tim up to sit on the counter, making it easier on the both of them. Although Tim could carry three times his weight, his knees always went weak with Jason's attention. As if to live up to his reputation, he began to palm Tim in his pants, coaxing him to full hardness before unzipping his pants. He pulled down his pants and underwear down to his knees so Tim wouldn't have a hissy fit about messing them.

"What, you going to give me a handjob or something?" Tim asked with a toothy grin. Jason smiled mischievously up at him as he gripped the base of the member.

"Or something," he responded before he dragged his tongue up the underside of Tim's weeping cock. Tim shuddered and bit his bottom lip, the corners of his lips curling up into a playful smile. He definitely wasn't regretting leaving the party early, not for this. Every lick and kiss sent tendrils up pleasure up into his abdomen, and every light graze of teeth and rough suck went straight up his spine, making his toes curl. No, he wasn't regretting this at all.

Jason moved Tim's legs so they'd rest on his shoulders, making it easier. And god, how he loved it when they would quiver and lightly squeeze the side of Jason's head when Tim was on the brink of losing it. Besides the breathy moans and just Tim, it was probably the sexiest thing ever since sliced bread.

Jason had engulfed Tim entirely, and Tim let out a surprised yelp at the warm, wetness that made his legs feel warm. His face became red with embarrassment, worried that someone had heard, and Jason chuckled around him, the vibrations only making Tim moan even louder. The noises he made always went straight to Jason's groin; this time was no exception.

He sucked sharply on the throbbing member as he bobbed his head at an agonizingly slow pace because he loved to tease Tim. He'd drag his tongue along the underside of the warm cock before he'd lap at the head, and then go back down slowly. The slower he went, the more of a mess Tim became, and it was just fun to see him completely spent and into it. He'd hallow his cheeks every now and then, making sure his nose touched his soft skin with every bob, and then he'd swallow. Each time elicited dirty noises from Tim, and he moaned when Tim gently squeezed his thighs.

Jason hummed around him again, licking and sucking, before Tim suddenly lost it and came, shoving his load into Jason's mouth. He was a bit surprised by the sudden cry and taste of salt and the slight taste of the strawberries Tim had eaten earlier, but he swallowed the load whole. Just a bit too hungrily.

Tim was panting from where he sat on the counter, too caught up in bliss to worry about whether or not someone had heard them. He idly thought if the alcohol was to blame for that, having slowly kicked in to relax his mind. And with Jason staring at him with that predatory grin, he didn't think he'd care for a while.

"Have fun, pretty bird?" he purred in his ear, hands on either side of Tim as he pushed himself between the man's legs. He nipped at Tim's ear, gently tugging on his earlobe. Tim wrapped his arms around the older man's neck and pulled him closer.

"More than you know," he whispered in his ear. "Wanna have a go?" Tim could feel the smirk against his skin as Jason gripped his hips possessively.

"You read my mind," he hummed, pressing even closer. "God, I love these parties."

And for the moment, Tim agreed. Because who doesn't love bathroom sex?


	11. Day 11: Family Dinners

**12 Days of Jaytim  
**_Alone_

It was strange, really. The one thing Tim and Jason could say that they both had in common during the holidays was being alone. At least during earlier times.

Jason always had it rough with his mother. He used to really enjoy Christmas with his mother because she used to be so lively and passionate about her son. That all changed as the years passed, and Jason was always left alone. Whether she went outside to get something (most likely more drugs), or if some pimps came by and took her away from him for the night, or if she was getting high off of a substance, or even a depressive episode.

It didn't matter if she was gone or still in the house. Jason was always left alone for the holidays. He and his mom used to make a dinner for just the two of them. It was never anything big because they could never afford much, but his mom used to make Amish white bread, and it was always so sweet and warm. It wasn't much of a dinner, but Jason always looked forward to it because he got to spend it with his mother. And once it all changed, Jason began to hate the holiday altogether. Not because of the lack of the homemade bread or being alone, but because he lost his mother.

Tim's got it all though, rich parents, a manor, servants waiting on his every word, clothes, food, everything. He has everything a person could want, but he was always alone. Same as Jason. He was loved, just like Jason had been, but they showed it in a different way. It was very hurried, sometimes even strained, and there were moments when Tim thought that their love for him slowly began to diminish the longer they were away. Then he wondered if it wasn't that, but they were just slowly starting to forget he was there. It would make sense because they could be gone for months at a time, and Tim would just be stuck at the manor.

Dinners were the worst. He never liked them to begin with since they were always formal, and Tim was never allowed to speak unless spoken to. And at first, yeah, his parents would talk to him, act like he existed. But as the years continued, he would only be spoken too if his posture wasn't perfect while sitting, or he added too much salt to the food, only if his etiquette was wrong. So Tim started to request his meals be taken up to his room. It would be much more peaceful than listening to his parents fight about everything and have him as their scapegoat. It was better to be alone. Not to mention, he was alone during the majority of the year, so why should a holiday be any different?

Jason and Tim never talked about their past lives very much. Tim greatly respected Jason and never talked about anything that dealt with past holidays before his death. He knew that time of year was always rough on him. And Jason returned the favor by never bringing the topic up much because Tim was still going through rough patches that remind him of his family, so he respects that. This is the first year they'll spend Christmas together, and they're not exactly sure on how to go about that. Tim usually busied himself by improving tech and organizing files and reports whereas Jason scavenged the streets and beat scumbags to a bloody pulp if they tried anything. Then they were usually forced into festivities at the manor, but there were days in between that they didn't know what to do. They weren't exactly the definition of a perfect couple.

But they both knew that they didn't want to be alone this year, and why should they?

Tim was currently curled up on the sofa, holding a mug of coffee in his hands. He was using Jason's shoulder as a pillow as the man read The Great Gatsby for the fifth time. It was warm, and the two of them were comfortable in the silence of their apartment. Though Tim felt that they should do something.

"Hey," he said softly, enough to grab Jason's attention. "I'm no five star chef, but is there anything you'd like for dinner?" They tried to eat together on most nights, but sometimes they couldn't, and that was okay. They didn't need anything extravagant. But Tim would really like one family dinner that could go well, and he could tell Jason felt the same.

"Do we have anything to make bread with?" he asked after a while, and he could feel Tim's smile against his shoulder.

"I think so."

It was nothing out of the storybooks are cliché movies, but it was home to them, and it was enough.


	12. Day 12: Christmas Eve

**12 Days of Jaytim  
**_Sleep_

Tim sighed as he leaned against the window, feeling the cold glass against his skin. It was snowing outside, adding the final touch to the Christmas spirit that no one seemed to have in the small apartment. But that was okay. Dick made up for all of them put together. He had too much holiday cheer to go around.

Tim sighed quietly as he stared out at the city lights. It was peaceful. He had to enjoy it now before they had to get up and head to the manor tomorrow. Dick had insisted upon it, which means there's not getting out of it. He'd bring Christmas to the hospital if you were bedridden with broken bones. The man was unstoppable in that department.

Warm hands suddenly gripped Tim's arms, slowly rubbing them, and a warm body pressed against his back.

"The hell are you doing up?" said a gruff, yet quiet, voice in his ear. "You can't be excited for tomorrow." Tim smiled softly at that.

"No. Just a bit restless, I think," he responded with a soft hum, leaning against Jason as he practically engulfed him with his arms.

"Come back to bed?" he asked, hands smoothing over Tim's abdomen. He could feel the warmth of the palm even through his sweater. He pressed a soft kiss to Tim's temple, smelling the soft traces of his shampoo. His hand played absently with the rim of Tim's pants, and Tim couldn't help but chuckle quietly.

"Yeah. Sure," he said before he let Jason lead him back to there room. Tim stripped, and pulled on just a pair of loose drawstring pants because Jason was like a personal heater. He crawled into bed next to him where they were almost instantly glued together. Tim's face was buried in the crook of Jason's neck as they molded together. Close, warm, and safe.

Tim nuzzled his shoulder and sighed tiredly. "Merry Christmas," he whispered.

"It's not Christmas yet," Jason huffed, though the underlying words of "don't remind me" made Tim chuckle.

Jason was out within minutes, something that seemed rare at times, but was slowly becoming more common. Tim was grateful for this because the man deserved sleep. And he, too, fell asleep soon after to the steady beat of the man's heartbeat. They'd need their sleep too.

Because Dick was going to host one hell of a snowball fight.


End file.
